


Bucky Barnes vs the Adaptoid

by cleo4u2



Series: Remembering Steve Rogers [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Angst, Bucky will burn down the world for Steve, F clamps cant be used like that, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, The Avengers always defeat the bad guy, Torture takes too long, Violence, botched marriage proposals, creepy androids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleo4u2/pseuds/cleo4u2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky joins the Avengers after the events in Cheesecake. The team goes on a mission to Germany to deal with an active AIM lab where the Super Adaptoid has been created. After nearly killing Steve, he separates Bucky from the team and chases him into the Black Forest. When his mind forgets his life past 1943, he has to keep himself alive and get back to Steve in a world he hardly believes is real. If he can, he'll heal more than just his mind.</p><p>This is a sequel to Cheesecake. If you haven't read that,  Chapter 2, Chapter 3 and parts of Chapter 1 will make no sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Super Adaptoid

**Author's Note:**

> For [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/profile) who keeps inspiring more chapters of this saga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, my Adaptoid is not the comic book version.

For some reason, Steve and the others decide Bucky should join the Avengers after the events in Chicago. He’s not sure it’s such a great idea himself, not when he still has Blank Slate days and Old Bucky days. No one else seems to care. The only one who realizes he’s not keen on the idea – he has no desire to be a liability – is Natasha. She’s also the one who convinces him, pretending to casually mention all the things Steve has jumped off. If there’s no other reason to help out, it’s to put a stop to that shit.

At first, it all goes surprisingly well. Bucky fits in easily with the other Avengers, though he keeps away from Stark as much as possible. It’s a lot like being with the Howlies again, especially as the team appreciates him as much for his ability to wrangle Steve as his ability to hit a target. He’s actually starting to enjoy the gig, feeling like maybe this makes up for some of the things he’s done as the Winter Soldier, when it all goes sideways.

Intel receives an anonymous report of an AIM laboratory on the outskirts of the Black Forest in Germany. AIM, an offshoot of Hydra, were worse than their big bad brother. Not in sheer destructive force, but in the horrible shit they were willing to do to people who no one would miss. People like Bucky. 

The lab in question is well disguised as a ski lodge, complete with tourists during the winter months. It only comes onto their radar because a ski lodge should shut down when there’s no snow, but this one held a full complement of staff every day of the year. What exactly they were cooking up at the lodge is unclear, but it was located close enough to the German Kaltenbronn Natural Reserve that unfortunate experiments could easily be disposed of. It also explained the disappearances of several backpackers and daytrippers into the region.

Since the winter season was still several months away, and no one is willing to wait that long just for an easy infiltration, they agree to go in hot and heavy. Intel listed the laboratory as having under fifty scientists with about twenty armed security, so the team is small. Just Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint. The plan is straightforward. Steve and Nat would sneak in the back while Bucky made a ruckus with Clint in the front. They would drop in, deal with any threats, then secure the lab for Tony’s people to investigate.

The mission actually starts off well. Clint and Bucky make things explode, break windows and cameras, effectively distracting all the security to the hotel levels and taking them out of Steve and Nat’s path. In total, they only have to deal with three guards on their way to the research labs located beneath the lodge. Bucky’s feeling pretty confident by the time Nat radios they are deep enough underground that comms might cut out. Nothing ever goes well when you’re feeling overly-confident, though. That alone should have warned him that something terrible was going to happen. 

Twenty security guards without any kind of special training are an easy match for Bucky by himself. With Clint watching his back, they have a total of twenty- _three_ Germans subdued and zip cuffed on the front lawn well within the allotted time frame. Steve and Nat aren’t due to report in for another ten minutes, so Bucky passes the time discussing the merits and uses of various throwing knives with Clint until static bursts over the comms.

“…down,” Natasha shouts, her words drowned in a sea of white noise. “Repeat, Cap,” more static, “Experiment copies…can’t hold…”

Bucky doesn’t need to hear anything else. While Clint tries to get Natasha back on the radio, or increase the signal capacity of their units, Bucky grabs the nearest guard and breaks his little finger. _Then _he asks his question.__

__His German is stale, but, “How do I get to the lower levels?” comes out clearly enough he knows the man understands. Though pale from the pain, the man just closes his eyes and doesn’t answer. Natasha is still shouting into his ear, the static not helping her make any more sense, and Bucky does not have time for this shit. Drawing his modified 9mm Glock, he pulls the slide, points the muzzle at the uncooperative goon, and pulls the trigger._ _

__“Holy shit!” Clint shouts more out of surprise than anything else._ _

__Bucky presses the heated metal to the temple of the next guard and repeats his question. This one screams something about the “unenlightened” and earns himself his own bullet to the brain._ _

__“There’s eighteen of you left!” Bucky snarls and he _knows_ he’s terrifying behind the mask and goggles. “I’ll ask once. If you don’t answer, you die.”_ _

__He turns the Glock on the next guard and the poor bastard caves, babbling about secret panels in the elevator and security cards. Steve will give him his wounded puppy look later, but Bucky will be fine with that so long as he’s around to give it. Something is horribly wrong, and that’s the thing with Bucky. No matter what he’s forgotten, he always knows he’ll burn down the world for Steve Rogers._ _

__“If you’re lying, you die,” Bucky tells the unfortunate soul. Hauling him up by the arm, he makes for the lodge while barking a simple, “Watch them,” at Clint._ _

__“Bring them back, Sarge,” Clint says, and it’s too solemn; he’s heard the panic in Natasha’s voice too._ _

__Kicking open the lodge doors, Bucky drags the guard to the elevators and thumbs the down button. The guy is babbling in German about a wife, or a dog. He doesn’t care enough to pay attention. When the light dings, he pushes his prisoner inside, then presses the muzzle to his temple again. Both the examples Bucky made of this man’s colleagues must still linger in his memory because he explains how to access the secret panel and they’re off._ _

__When the doors open again, Bucky can see one of the guards Nat and Steve had dealt with earlier sprawled on the floor. He can also hear the echo of Natasha’s voice and something pounding steadily against metal, or concrete. From this distance, it could be either._ _

__The guard is crying hysterically now, babbling brokenly for his life as Bucky puts away his Glock. That makes the guy relax a little and it’s difficult not to feel guilty. He can’t leave an enemy at his back and he can’t give his position away. Palming a blade from his hip, he cuts the guard's throat from ear to ear and solves both problems. Then he drags the dying body halfway into the hall, trapping the elevator doors open with dead weight as the guard draws his last breath._ _

__The man’s green eyes, betrayed and terrified, are going to find Bucky in his nightmares later._ _

__Bucky follows the sounds of commotion through two labs, a guard station with two more incapacitated men, and some kind of canteen. The next room has been torn to pieces. Before someone took a sledgehammer to it, it could have been a doctor’s office. Medical equipment is scattered everywhere, but so are tools that look like they’d be more comfortable in Stark’s workshop. The scary part is the man-sized hole in one wall that leads to another lab in a state worse than the first. Or maybe it’s just more horrifying as there’s copious amounts of blood splattering the floor and walls._ _

__Forcing himself not to rush, Bucky creeps to the door and can hear that the pounding is definitely against steel. He also hears the distinct sound of metal under extreme duress. With his own comms now refusing to work, he can’t tell if Natasha is still shouting, but he doesn’t need to hear it to know they’re running out of time._ _

__Carefully poking his head into the hall, Bucky lays eyes on a walking nightmare. A man dressed in a green suit, a lot like Steve’s, is slamming his fist repeatedly against a reinforced steel door. Between where Bucky stands and that door,, the floor and hall is smeared with blood. The worst part, the very worst part, is Captain America’s shield is clutched in the green asshole’s other hand._ _

__Bucky wants to vomit. He wants to scream. He draws his Glock._ _

__Two steps take him into the hallway. Combat boots don’t slip in blood, but he can feel the slick beneath his tread. One step to the side. He raises his arm, aims, and takes the shot. The bullet takes Mr. Green in the back of the head, but he doesn’t fall. His face slams into the door he’d been attempting to punch through, and then he just turns around._ _

__Turns out, Mr. Green doesn’t actually have a face. Bucky is definitely going to have nightmares._ _

__Dressed in what looks like a alternatively-colored Captain America costume, a blank plate where his face should be, the guy looks a bit like the Iron Man suit. If the Iron Man suit didn’t have eyes and had been painted like a green and white American flag. Bucky’s eyes skim over all this and land on Steve’s shield. Now that Mr. Green’s turned around, Bucky can see more blood smearing the red, white, and blue surface. It’s Steve’s. Bucky doesn’t know how he knows, but he’s sure of that._ _

__The arm clicks, plates shifting and settling as Bucky’s chest fills with rage._ _

__“That outfit clashes with the shield,” Bucky tells Mr. Green. “Besides, didn’t your mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?”_ _

__A voice like JARVIS’s, but colder, deeper, says, “Code Name Winter Soldier. Birth name, James Barnes. Bucky. Intimate with Code Name Captain America, target. Threat level: Maximum.”_ _

__“Aw, you flatterer,” Bucky growls._ _

__Mr. Green walks towards him slowly. Glancing behind him to find an empty hallway, Bucky steps backwards. If he can get Mr. Green away from the door, he knows Natasha can get Steve out._ _

__Perhaps sensing his plan, Mr. Green takes another calm step and flings the shield with all the accuracy of Captain America himself. That’s fine, Bucky’s metal arm snaps out and catches it, then slings it onto his flesh wrist. He gets the feeling he’s going to need the protection._ _

__“You returned it!” Bucky says because he thinks the dialogue will be confusing to…whatever Mr. Green is. “Thanks. My friend will have been looking for that everywhere.”_ _

__Backing up further, he watches Mr. Green follow. Over the thing’s shoulder, he can see Natasha’s face in a small window, blood smeared across her jaw, eyes wild. Yet when she sees Bucky, her face breaks into a smile just before she disappears again._ _

__Right. Now all he has to do is keep Mr. Green’s attention._ _

__“You are alike, and not like, Adaptoid,” Mr. Green says. “Metal and flesh, combined; strong, but your flesh leaves you weak.” One large hand sweeps out, gesturing to its own body. “Adaptoid is strong, suited to all combat conditions, created to destroy Captain America.”_ _

__Bucky’s blood reacts as if he’s being put into cryofreeze. He stops backing up. Adaptoid, if that’s Mr. Green’s name, walks closer._ _

__“James Barnes,” Adaptoid goes on, “will require a new partner when my target is eliminated. Adaptoid is superior in all ways to Captain America. Adaptoid is the obvious choice.”_ _

__The inhuman double of Steve Rogers stops before Bucky, looking down on him from exactly two extra inches. Bucky’s arm whirrs, recalibrates, steals Adaptoid’s attention. How Bucky knows that when the thing doesn’t have eyes, he isn’t sure. A second later, Adaptoid’s arm shifts and purrs, plates forming over muscle until it looks like a green version of Bucky’s prosthetic down to the red star. It’s… Well, that’s definitely not good._ _

__Bucky’s arm clicks, whirs. Adaptoid’s mimics the sound_ _

__Behind them, Bucky hears the battered metal door screech as it’s hauled aside. The sound echos through the underground lair. Bucky winces, but Adaptoid doesn’t even turn. A green hand, seemingly clad in a glove a lot like Steve’s, reaches up and pulls off Bucky’s mask. Everything in Bucky screams not to let him, to beat the weird green son-of-a-bitch to a pulp for what he’d done to Steve. Yet, behind the creature he can see Natasha supporting a pale, bloody Steve who can barely stay on his feet, so he swallows the reaction. Somehow, holds still._ _

__The goggles follow the mask and Bucky makes himself focus on the _thing_ that thinks it could ever be better than his Steve._ _

__“I can make you like me, James Barnes,” Adaptoid says, apparently not done selling Bucky on how great he is. “Together we will be unstoppable. You will no longer have this soft flesh holding you back. Agree; I will ensure the transition is painless.”_ _

__Adaptoid reaches for Bucky’s face and he jerks back, not willing to be touched by the monster. For all his pretty words, Adaptoid responds like any bully denied a new toy. He throws a punch at Bucky’s sternum._ _

__Doubling over, Bucky drops to a knee and winces as Adaptoid drags him back up by his hair._ _

__“There is no logic in denying me. I am _superior_.”_ _

__“You think you’re better than Steve?” Bucky asks._ _

__Natasha hauls Steve through the door to the lab with the busted wall and out of sight._ _

__“I was created to be better. With my abilities, I can copy the powers of any superhero. I have his strength, a superior healing factor. I am smarter, faster, and now I have your arm.”_ _

__Well, _shit_ , Bucky thinks._ _

__“I am better in all ways. You will choose me. You _will_ agree to join me!”_ _

__“Here’s the thing,” Bucky says, shaking his head, and Adaptoid must think he’s going to agree because he lets go of Bucky’s hair. The reaction would probably make sense to Stark. There is, after all, no logical reason to refuse again. That’s fine; Steve was always the smart one._ _

__The arm chirps, whirrs, and he slams it into Adaptoid’s green chest. The thing goes flying, slamming through the door Natasha and Steve had hidden behind, and tumbles head-over-heels into the room._ _

__Bucky doesn’t actually stop to watch. The second after his fist connects, he sprints after Natasha and Steve. They’ve made it to the guard station. Behind him, he hears Adaptoid shriek in anger and come tearing after them. It’s a good reason not to stop, so he doesn’t slow down as he reaches the duo._ _

__“Time to go,” he says, catching Steve under the knees and around the back, lifting him bodily so they can run the rest of the way to the elevator. Natasha is limping, but she keeps up and drags the corpse Bucky had used to keep the elevator waiting for them out of the way._ _

__Apparently alive enough to be appalled, Steve starts a lecture with, “Bucky,” and he has to cut him off._ _

__“Not now, Cap.”_ _

__Because he’s Steve, though, he won’t be put off._ _

__“How many?” he demands._ _

__Natasha hits the elevator button as Bucky leans Steve against the wall._ _

__“Three,” Bucky answers._ _

__The look on Steve’s face is as pained as if he were the brother or father of all three men. It’s not why Bucky looks away, that’s to look down the hall where Adaptoid is charging them. And he wasn’t lying, he’s faster than Steve. The elevator doors aren’t closing fast enough, no matter how many times Natasha pushes the lobby button._ _

__As disappointed as he is now, Bucky knows Steve will be even angrier later because he pulls the shield off his arm and throws it at Adaptoid. The green Captain America wannabe catches it, of course, but that’s why Bucky also threw the grenade. The explosion tosses Adaptoid off his feet and, though he’s up and running a few seconds later, it’s enough time for the doors to slide closed._ _

__A heavy clang echos in their tiny compartment and the entire elevator shakes even as they start climbing upwards._ _

__“What the hell is that thing?” Natasha demands._ _

__“Adaptoid,” Bucky says, kneeling by Steve and trying to figure out where all the blood is coming from. There’s a large tear in Steve’s uniform at his stomach, but Steve’s arm is pressed tight over it. “Says he copies superhero powers and was created to kill Captain America.”_ _

__Steve winces._ _

__“Came pretty close.”_ _

__It’s not the kind of thing Bucky wants to hear._ _

__“Shut up,” he snaps, “What do you know, stupid punk.”_ _

__This makes Steve smile, so Bucky scowls at him as hard as he can._ _

__“Seemed to like you,” Natasha says._ _

__Bucky snorts._ _

__“Thought I’d want to be his boyfriend, you know, since he’s the superior model. As if.”_ _

__Steve asks, “That’s one of those colloquialisms you learned on the internet, isn’t it?” The question is rhetorical. Steve can barely use Google; Bucky loves Twitter and all things social media. Instagram is the greatest invention in the entire future._ _

__The elevator stops, Bucky slides his arm under Steve and pulls him to his feet. The smile Steve wore vanishes as he clenches his jaw in agony to hold back a cry. It’s more worrying than his pale skin, or the bleeding that still hasn’t stopped._ _

__“Clint, evac, ASAP,” Natasha says into the comms._ _

__“Why aren’t you healing?” Bucky demands as he pulls Steve out onto the grass towards the emergency evac location._ _

__Steve, being Steve, doesn’t give a straight answer._ _

__“He got me pretty good, Buck.”_ _

__“Nat?” Bucky demands. “Tell me.”_ _

__“It was strapped to a bed in one of the labs. We thought, you know, it would want our help, but it just went nuts. Attacked. Threw Steve through a wall.”_ _

__“Nat,” Steve says, trying to stop her which means it’s really, really bad._ _

__“He picked up this metal, thing, I don’t know what it was-”_ _

__“F-clamp,” Steve says. He sounds resigned and far too tired._ _

__“- and he just- It didn’t look like it could even be _used_ like that, but he hit Steve. Hard.” Natasha’s voice skips and Bucky doesn’t think he’s seen her like this before, “And it went right into him and then that- that _thing_ just ripped it out again.”_ _

__The cold of being frozen has nothing on the chill Bucky feels now. Natasha is right. You can’t _stab_ someone with an F-clamp. You just...you _can’t_._ _

__“I’m all right,” Steve says._ _

__“Shut _up_ ,” Bucky snaps because he’s not, he’s really not._ _

__And neither are the rest of them. A terrible, rending tear erupts from somewhere inside the lodge. Looking over his shoulder, Bucky sees something green and metallic rear out of the elevator shaft, pause, and then make straight for the door. Adaptoid doesn’t even stop to open it, he uses Steve’s shield to crash through the glass without slowing down._ _

__“Incoming!” Clint yells, but he’s looking in the other direction. Engines roar above Bucky’s head, signalling the arrival of the quinjet. It’s just too little too late._ _

__The cold feels like it’s settling into Bucky’s bones. The plan is obvious. Someone has to hold Adaptoid back long enough that the jet can get away. Natasha is shaky, Steve is down for the count, and Clint is never going to be picked for a one-on-one fight over Bucky. If Steve weren’t biased, it would be the play he’d call._ _

__Pulling Steve’s arm off his shoulder, he drapes Captain America over Natasha._ _

__“Bucky, no,” Steve protests, but he can’t even get his feet underneath him. He’s so pale it hurts Bucky to look, but there’s every chance this will be the last time. It lasts maybe a second and then Bucky has to move. Not even enough time to tell Steve he loves him once more._ _

__Sprinting away from the jet, from Steve and Natasha and Clint, Bucky pulls out a knife and throws it at the rushing green menace. Adaptoid, of course, dodges. There are no comms, no way for Bucky to tell Natasha and Clint to get Steve out of there, but they’re professionals. He doesn’t have to. When he hears Steve yelling, then screaming, he knows they’re following his unspoken plan._ _

__In response to Bucky’s knife, Adaptoid throws the shield, proving he is _not_ as smart as Captain America. Bucky catches it, _again_ , and now he has another weapon to go with the combat knife he pulls from its sheath. When they crash into each other amidst cowering security guards, Bucky makes good use of both weapons. He catches Adaptoid’s imitation metal arm on the vibranium surface, twists away, and comes in low with the blade. It sinks into Adaptoid’s side to the hilt, but the fucker doesn’t even flinch._ _

__Grabbing Bucky’s wrist, he twists, trying to trap the arm behind Bucky’s back. A kick to Adaptoid’s knee forces him to dodge, gives Bucky an extra second to bring Steve’s shield up in an overhand blow to the creature’s wrist. It breaks the grip, but allows Adaptoid to grab the shield’s edge. In a backwards moment of deja vu, Adaptoid twists, and Bucky has to throw his body along in a flip to avoid having his arm broken. In the process, the shield is pulled from his forearm and Bucky is down a weapon._ _

__Backing away to get some distance, he takes a kick to the ribs and still grins because he can hear the quinjet’s bay door opening behind him. Steve’s shouting has reached a new crescendo of panic and he really wishes the big punk would shout something _nice_ at him since they might not see each other again. Then he takes his Glock in hand and discovers Adaptoid’s knee caps _can_ shatter like anyone else's when shot there. It’s a pleasant surprise, and for a moment Bucky considers reaching the jet, but the fucker throws Steve’s shield and it comes at him faster than he can react. Tumbling backward from the force of the blow, Bucky gasps for air with lungs that simply will not cooperate. _ _

__The jet engines start to warm up so, despite everything in his body screaming at him to stay _down_ Bucky rolls onto his hands and knees. Through his hair, he can see Adaptoid climbing back to his feet, the shattered knees already healing. Even Steve can’t heal that fast and, for fuck’s sake; can’t he catch a break?_ _

__“Stop fighting, James Barnes,” Adaptoid says, apparently wanting to chat again, “Agree to my terms and I will not be forced to destroy you.”_ _

__Bucky’s laugh is a little hysterical as he climbs to his feet._ _

__“Buddy, there’s no way in hell I’m gonna join you for anything.”_ _

__Adaptoid roars in what appears to be rage, and charges him. Bucky manages to block one, two, three, _four_ punches, and the copied metal arm catches him under the chin. Stars flash before his eyes, but Hydra trained him well, and he rolls as he hits the ground, gets back to his feet, and kicks the shield into Adaptoid’s face as the idiot tries the same tactic again. _ _

__“Sucks when you throw that and it comes back to bite you, doesn’t it?” Bucky says with his new ‘Net-acquired vocabulary while catching the shield on the rebound._ _

__The latest rejection appears to have killed Adaptoid’s desire for communication, and he wastes no time attacking again. Bucky throws himself into it; he can hear the jet taking off, gaining altitude, and soon not even Steve’s muscles would be able to jump high enough to reach it. Their metal arms howl and it takes everything Bucky has not to take a blow he won’t be able to get back up from. He can’t do any damage to Adaptoid, he’s known that from the start. But if he can stall the thing, and somehow get away, then he might live to apologize to Steve for killing those guards._ _

__Adaptoid’s copy of his arm closes around his throat as the jet’s engines pour heat down on their heads and carrying Steve, Nat, and Clint off towards safety._ _

__“Looks like your target got away,” Bucky chokes out._ _

__What should be a face snaps upwards, watches the jet soaring away, and Bucky feels hysterical laughter well in his chest again. How this guy could think he’s smarter than Steve is beyond him. Adaptoid is actually a lot more like Bucky, and he screams in rage again, throwing Bucky’s 220 pounds nearly a hundred feet through the air. His throat is bruised, and he twists a knee when he lands, but Bucky doesn’t stick around to see what Adaptoid is going to pull for his next trick. He _runs_ , into the trees, away from the lodge and the still-screaming green thing that doesn't have a face. _ _

__Another hundred feet finds him deep enough into the forest that the sounds of Adaptoid’s impotent rage fade away. Pine needles and dead leaves crackle beneath Bucky’s booted feet. He has to strain to see in the sudden dusk the thick canopy casts over the forest floor. A bird cries somewhere to his left. Another, terrified by his headlong dash, takes startled flight._ _

__Bucky doesn't hear pursuit, but still he doesn’t stop. Not for another five minutes. Then he doubles back, retraces his clear and obvious path through the woods as silently as he knows how. Still no sight of Adaptoid - did the thing seriously rage at the sky and not notice he was gone? - so Bucky jumps as far from his original path as he can and starts off in a new direction._ _

__While he’s not actually sure where he’s going, it doesn’t matter if he gets lost in the Black Forest. Lost is the safest bet right about now. Eventually, if he wanders in any direction, he’ll stumble upon one of the myriad roads that criss-cross the mountains that the Forest grows upon. Then he can find a home, or a pay phone, and let someone know where he is. Really, it’s as good a plan as any other. Without his comms - he left those on the floor where Adaptoid had tossed them - he can’t contact Steve or the others. It’s probably a good thing, though, as he doesn’t know if the thing can track him by their signal. It would still be nice to hear Steve’s voice, though, or hear that he’s not going to die. That would be really swell right about then._ _

__Half an hour later, Bucky hears echoes of crashing and splintering wood in the direction he’d come from. When he turns, he can’t see anything, but the sounds don’t stop for approximately ten minutes._ _

__“Really gotta get a handle on that temper,” Bucky mumbles to himself._ _

__Two hours after that and it’s really starting to get dark when he stumbles across a stream. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book, but he chooses right, and treads through the water to hide his progress._ _

__The rushing stream cascading over smooth stones is a lullaby Bucky soon finds hard to resist. He knows he should keep going, go and go and not stop, but he’s exhausted. He had managed to hold his own, but Adaptoid had effectively kicked his ass. While he can heal quickly, it’s not as quickly as Steve, and the leftover bruises _hurt_. All in all, he’s emotionally, physically, and mentally done with everything that’s happened. _ _

__Another hour of walking and Bucky gives in to his aching body. Ever since that first crash through the forest, he hasn’t heard anything from Adaptoid, and prays he’s lost Bucky’s trail. It’s probably wishful thinking, but he deserves a break, god damn it. As he climbs a tree as high as the branches will support - and that’s pretty damned high with trees this old - he let’s himself think it’s the last he’ll hear of his creepy new friend._ _


	2. Bucky Barnes, Howling Commando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn't wake up where, or when, he expects.

The day before, all Bucky knew he had forgotten was that he hates how the new bananas taste. When he wakes high in a tree somewhere in the Black Forest with a weird AIM creation hunting for him, he’s forgotten everything after February 14, 1943. Later, Bucky’s just grateful he didn’t wake up blank, or as an earlier version of himself. _This_ Bucky at least doesn’t fall out of the fucking tree as soon as his eyes open.

The last thing he remembers is helping Steve take down a Hydra base in Czechoslovakia, in the winter. The snow, he notices, is conspicuously absent and he doesn’t think there there were _this_ many trees about. He’s positive he didn’t have Steve’s shield. Nevertheless, there’s only one reason to sleep in the trees, so he catches on quick. It’s still a shock, of course, to expect to wake up smothered by Steve’s new bulk and instead find himself nearly sixty feet in the air, hiding behind enemy lines. He can’t remember, but the night before, Bucky had hauled himself a little less than halfway up an old silver fir with enough foliage to hide him from sight from anyone searching for him on the ground, or in the air. It’s a good perch, not that he remembers getting here, and he has enough time to appreciate that before he notices his arm.

It never gets easier for Old Bucky to find out he’s lost his left arm and that it’s been replaced with something out of a science fiction novel. He clenches his fist and the silver metal follows his commands with a whirr of well-crafted machinery. It’s the second piece of evidence he has that he’s lost time. It’s a war, so he’s seen plenty of guys crack and think they’re someplace else. This doesn’t feel like a hallucination. For one, he hurts too much. He’s seen a lot in the war, though, so he takes another guess. There’s plenty of guys who get hit in the head and can’t remember who they are.

_Sergeant Barnes, James B. 32557038._

So partial amnesia, then. Gingerly he feels his head for an injury. There’s nothing, but he discovers that his hair is girlishly long. Tied back, but what the hell? It’s _definitely_ not regulation, not even a style Bucky would like from how it feels, but there’s no denying it’s his. How long would it take to get that long, anyways? A year? Two? How much time did he lose?

More importantly, where the hell is Steve?

Thinking maybe, somehow, the shield is just a duplicate, he twists to see the polished surface is smeared with blood. It’s certainly Steve’s, though. There’s some new straps and something that Stark must have added, but there isn’t enough vibranium in the world for two shields. He wishes there was, then he could pretend that this shield isn’t likely covered in Steve’s blood.

Fighting down his panic, Bucky takes inventory of himself. There are no other surprises like his arm or hair, no wounds, but the black tactical gear is not a style he recognizes. He’s seriously well-armed, though, even without the shield. Four knives are strapped to various places, there’s a little .22 in his boot, and three grenades on his belt. No rifle, though, and an empty holster for another gun at the small of his back. He thinks there’s some places for other missing knives, but he can’t be certain as he doesn’t remember getting dressed.

Other pockets reveal supplies like the supplement bars they gave Steve packed with enough calories and nutrients to satisfy the guy’s new metabolism. Half of one becomes breakfast, though he assumes he’s carrying the thing for Steve. There’s a flare, some flint and tinder, a braided loop of cord, and some odd little metal discs. None of the supplies he keeps are for the Howlies; the cigarettes and alcohol that he hasn’t admitted don’t affect him after Azzano. Perhaps he’s gone through those already. They don't’ work, but they can still be a comfort.

In his breast pocket, he finds a folded piece of paper and a ring. Solid gold, it catches the light as he turns, then nearly drops the thing when he reads the inscription inside.

SGR + JBB | Until The End of the Line.

“Jesus Christ,” he curses aloud, staring at the bit of gold.

For months now, he’s been saving up for something like this. Ever since Steve had refused to leave him for Peggy Carter, though there isn’t a dame better for Steve in all the world. Really, all Bucky had wanted was for Steve to be happy. Do the whole thing with marriage and kids after the war. Steve had blown a gasket. It had taken Bucky three days to calm him down after the suggestion, and it was still a tetchy subject. He’d thought this might be a good way to prove he didn’t actually want to get rid of Steve, wasn’t upset by his new body, or any other stupid thing Steve had gotten into his head, but it was expensive. There were still at least half a year’s worth of paychecks before he could afford a ring like this. And that’s the thing, this was _Steve’s_ ring; the one he had planned to give to his stubbornly loyal lover. Why in the hell does he have it? Maybe Steve got him a matching one, but that doesn’t feel like Steve.

Dropping the ring back into his pocket, and desperate for any kind of answer to his questions, he opens the piece of paper. Bucky nearly sobs with relief when he sees it’s a letter, but the feeling drains quickly as he reads his own hand writing.

_Your name is James Barnes. You go by Bucky._

_If you’re reading this, you’ve forgotten all, or part, of who you are. Hydra (if you can’t remember who they are, they’re the bad guys) got their hands on you again and they fucked with your head. They also gave you the arm, made you do some bad things. I’m telling you that because not everyone trusts you and you can’t trust everyone. Anyone, really, except Steve and his team, the Avengers._

_If you can’t remember Steve, he’s the big blonde idiot dressed in blue, white and red, running around throwing a Frisbee. He’s important. Do anything you have to to keep him breathing. He’s got a tendency to forget he’s breakable and it is your job to keep him safe._

_The year is ~~2015~~ 2016\. Don’t be surprised by anything. Your Code Name is Winter Soldier. Find Steve. Tell him Code Silver and he’ll know what to do. If you can’t find Steve, stay where you are and he’ll find you; he’s stupid like that. The arm is better than your old one. It is a weapon; don’t underestimate it._

Bucky reads the note three times. It’s his handwriting, so he trusts it no matter how hard it is to believe seventy some odd years have passed. It doesn’t answer his two most important questions, however. Where is Steve and why does Bucky have his bloody shield and ring? He can only come up with one conclusion and he will not, _will not_ believe that Steve Rogers is dead. It’s simply and completely impossible.

_Bucky’s staring across a chasm of fire at the other half of his soul. It’s impossible that Steve’s here. It’s impossible how big he is. Steve tells him to go, save himself, but he won’t. He can’t. If this is the end of the line for Steve, it’s the end for Bucky too. He can see it in Steve’s face, he knows Bucky won’t leave, will die here with him if he has to. They’re not that different, not really, so he sees the moment he’ll try to make the jump even if it’s impossible for anyone, let alone the Steve Rogers Bucky left behind._

_Then he’s flying through smoke and fire, landing beside Bucky and they’re running. They’re running and this it’s impossible, but it’s real._

A twig snaps, unnaturally loud in the forest’s stillness, and breaks Bucky free of the flashback. Looking down, the tree’s branches obscure his vision so he carefully lowers himself down to the next, and then the one after. He descends ten feet before he can see well enough through the curtain of green to spot the source of the noise. A man in black gear – heavy and bulky – is attempting to make his way quietly through the underbrush. Bucky doesn’t recognize the assault rifle he’s holding, or his uniform, but he takes a wild guess that these are the guys he’s hiding from.

Twenty feet to the soldier’s right and left, Bucky spots two more. It’s a sweep. They are scouring the area for him and they’ve found him. Good thing is they don’t notice.

Holding still so he doesn’t shake the branches unnecessarily, he watches as they creep away from him silently. Well, mostly silently. It’s obvious they don’t have training to do this kind of thing, though they’ve definitely been taught to shoot. If he had his rifle, he’d show them how much better he was at that. Lucky them.

Letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, Bucky turns to climb back up to his apparently well-chosen hidey-hole when the he thinks he sees Steve. He turns his head fast enough he twists his neck, but it’s not his partner. First off, Steve would never wear that shade of green. Secondly, he _moves_ wrong, far too sleek and certainly too comfortable in his own skin. Whoever he is, he’s also much more stealthy than the others and must be following behind to see if Bucky makes a break for it behind the line. It’s not a bad strategy, except Bucky is seriously happy with his tree.

Playing rabbit again, Bucky watches the man pass directly beneath him and irrationally feels the need to hold his breath. His heart beats a staccato against his rib cage as Bucky’s brain tries to come up with a reason the guy is wearing a suit like Steve’s. Weird green Captain America suit, Steve’s bloody shield, a gold ring he can’t remember buying or giving away-

His mind skitters, dancing away from that thought process. He will _not_ believe Steve is dead until he sees the corpse himself.

_Sergeant Barnes. James B. 32557038._

_They’re dragging another prisoner into the room, strapping him to a table. They make him scream when they inject him with the needles. Bucky screams, too, and Zola writes something on his clipboard._

_Sergeant Barnes. James B. 32557038._

_A thump brings him from the pain. Cloth rustles and the Nazis mutter to each other, ignoring him. He’s still alive. The other prisoner isn’t. They’re dumping his corpse onto the ground. Bucky can see it when he turns his head, wide staring eyes white in death, blue veins visible through pale, thin skin. Whoever he was, he died screaming._

_Sergeant Barnes. James B. 32557038._

Lost in his mind, he loses an hour, two, five minutes; he doesn’t know. What he does know, is the German he’s hearing isn’t in his head. It’s coming from beneath him. He’s disoriented, but chances a peek to see creepy guy in green talking with one of the black clad soldiers. In German. It’s 2016 and somehow he’s still fighting Germans.

God, he misses his rifle.

“…searched everywhere,” Bucky hears, grateful for the hundredth time he had Gabe teach him some of the language. “The trail has gone cold.”

“Then search again,” Not-Captain-America says. His voice is weird, like it’s coming through a radio, or from under water. “Search the whole forest. Put eyes in the air, use all of our resources. _Find James Barnes_.”

“Sir,” the soldier hesitates, “We were informed that Captain America was your target, not the Winter Soldier.”

That’s him, Bucky remembers from the note.

Not-Captain-America doesn’t seem to like being talked back to. He takes a menacing step towards the soldier, grips him by the vest and lifts him bodily into the air.

“Captain America will return for James Barnes,” Not-Captain-America says, “With his lover in our custody, he will give up easily. Your orders are simple, Captain. Find James Barnes and bring him to me.”

Bucky sways. Yeah, that sounds like a really fucking stupid thing Steve would do. That hasn’t changed, the note said so. At least this means Steve is _alive_ , though, so Bucky isn’t going to complain this time. He just has to stay alive, stay away from these goons, and find Steve before they do. Should be simple enough.

“W-we can track his heat signature from the air,” the soldier is stammering. “Just need a little time to get the birds up.”

Not so simple, then. Shit.

“Do it quickly,” Not-Captain-America says, dropping the soldier to the ground once more, “The damage done to Steve Rogers is not permanent. He will require a day, perhaps two to recover. James Barnes must be _mine_ before this time.”

_Creepy fucker_ , Bucky thinks. The only guy he belongs to is Steve.

“Yes, Adaptoid,” the soldier babbles and runs off.

Not-Captain-America, now known as Adaptoid, remains beneath Bucky’s tree. It’s left arm, the one thing that’s not at all like Steve’s costume, catches his attention. Silver, like Bucky’s new one, it chirps and clicks as little plates move from shoulder to wrist. As if responding, his own arm mimics the motion, clicking and chirping.

Eyes widening in horror, Bucky watches Adaptoid’s head turn to look _right at him_. Only, he doesn’t have eyes, or a face, with which to look.

“I’m having a nightmare,” Bucky says to no one in particular.

“James Barnes,” the _thing_ says in its inhuman voice. Shivers crawl up Bucky’s spine and he thinks it would smile if such a thing were possible. “Found you.”

Adaptoid leaps. It’s grace and beauty and so much like Steve that Bucky’s chest hurts. It’s not so much like the stubborn punk that Bucky waits for him to climb up. Unfortunately, there aren’t too many places left to go. Up is out of the question, he’ll just get trapped. Down is far too far away, so it’s also not an option unless he feels like sliding right into Adaptoid’s green arms. He doesn’t, so that leaves sideways.

To slow the thing down, Bucky says a mental apology to Steve and throws the shield at his adversary. As Adaptoid blocks with the version of Bucky’s arm, he picks a direction at random and runs along the tree branch. Thankfully, the forest’s trees are ridiculously close together, branches interweaving and still thick and sturdy at this height. It is, hands down, one of the most stupid things he’s ever done. If he tells Steve later, the reckless ass will never let him forget it so he already plans to never tell anyone as he gets to the trunk of the next tree, pulls himself around and up to the next branch and continues away from Adaptoid.

Three trees later, Bucky realizes his plan isn’t working. Whatever Adaptoid is, he’s got better balance and speed than Bucky. With Steve’s life on the line, he can’t let himself get caught. There’s the little .22, but he can’t do that to Steve unless there’s no other choice. For now, he hits the next branch, reaches the tree trunk and slams his metal elbow into the bridge he had just used to cross over. It makes that odd sound again – click, whirr – and disintegrates the branch.

It’s a stunning display of power. One that actually roots him in place until he hears Adaptoid roar at him in anger from just behind. With a glance, he sees the freak jump to a lower branch and takes off again. At each new tree, Bucky destroys the path he took to get there. It doesn’t stop Adaptoid, but it slows him down as he has to use different branches, different paths to follow.

When he’s five trees behind, Adaptoid screams again and leaps to the forest floor. Bucky has no doubt he’ll be able to catch up from there, even possibly anticipate his movement and meet him. However, he’s also certain the branches between him and the ground will keep him hidden from sight. So, he does the stupid thing Steve would do and will never be told about. He leaps, kicking himself away from the tree as hard as he can. The jump takes him back the way he came and to the left, plus nearly skewers him on a tree branch. The arm again proves as useful as promised, catching the branch and pulling him up all on its own.

Below, he hears another one of the monster’s angry screams and knows he’s lost the thing for the moment. Slowing down, knowing his weight can shake the trees enough to give him away, he continues his perilous, incredibly risky, and stupidly effective path another hundred feet.

Then the trees start to explode behind him.

In a fit of terror, Bucky almost starts to run again. Then he realizes none of the trees near _him_ are being attacked. Adaptoid is, apparently, throwing a temper tantrum. It’s so surprising, he stares until the last tree falls. The silence afterwards is complete. No birds, no buzzing mosquitoes, no crawling rodents; the entire forest stills in shock at this wanton display of pointless violence.

Bucky realizes his entire body is shaking. Pressing tight to the tree trunk, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to calm down. If he can’t calm down, he can’t keep moving, and _staying_ here is even dumber than how he _got_ here. Except he can’t. He’s fifty fucking feet in the air, there’s a faceless green monster chasing him who wants to kill Steve, he’s lost his arm, had his mind fucked with by Hydra, and Steve is hurt. Calming down is not on the list of things Bucky Barnes is capable of in that moment.

Holding the tree as hard as he can, Bucky presses his lips together and forces himself not to move a muscle. In his head, he sees Steve turn on point, throw the shield and knock a Nazi sniper from a tree they’d all passed by unnoticed. Adaptoid has no face, like Red Skull had no skin, and of course this has got to be another one of those Super Soldier things.

Another tree explodes, farther away this time. Bucky presses his forehead to the bark as hard as he can, presses his lips closed even tighter. He tells himself he will not die here. He will not. He will find a way back to Steve.

_Sergeant Barnes. James B. 32557038._

_“This one is different than the others. Keep him alive and inject the modified serum every hour.” The round-faced scientist looms over Bucky. “Sergeant Barnes, is it? Your progress is most pleasing. I think you’re going to survive.”_

_Nonononono. Let him die. Let it be over. He can’t scream any more, can barely repeat his rank, name, and number. God, just let it be over._

_No! He can’t die here. He can’t. He has to get home, back to Steve. They agreed, to the end of the line, and this isn’t… This can’t be… Someone has to be coming. They wouldn’t leave them here._

_“Another injection now, Sergeant Barnes. Hold still.”_

_Sergeant Barnes. James B. 32557038._

The thumping whoosh of air being displaced offers Bucky’s mind something else to latch onto besides the past. He opens his eyes, exhausted and aching in every muscle, every joint, and his head throbs with pain. For a moment he’s relieved, thinks rescue is on the way. Then he remembers, “track his heat signature,” and feels that he should panic, but he’s just too exhausted. How is he supposed to avoid _this_?

Turning around, he slides down the trunk to sit on the branch. The fact of the matter is, he can’t. He can’t outrun a helicopter. He can’t negate his own body heat. He’s up a fucking tree like god damned Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham has a noose around his neck.

It’s only the thought of what Steve would think of him giving up that gets him moving again.

As he climbs down, he hears the helicopter pass to his left, then return and continue on to his right. Every time, the sound is just a little closer. When he hits the ground, he forces himself to run. He can’t outrun a helicopter, he _can’t_ , but he tries anyways. As he runs, the aches leave his body as his muscles warm up. The exhaustion is still there, but he can push it away, push it back. The headache never abates, but he ignores that, too, running and running as fast as his legs will carry him away from the sound of his pursuers.

Underbrush looms before him and he has no choice but to bull through. To his surprise, the forest abruptly ends on the other side. A road scythes through the mountain side, cutting a lane through the trees, with an orange line painted down the middle. Bucky hesitates because where there’s a road, there’s cars, and a car can outrun a helicopter.

Even as he thinks the words, a car comes tearing around the blind curve to his right. It’s a bit like one of Howard Stark’s flying cars, but it certainly has wheels. They screech as the driver sees him, twists the wheel, and slams on the breaks. It’s not nearly enough and the car careens sideways, skids, and wraps itself around a tree.

Cursing, because that was his _ride_ damn it, Bucky hurries down the hill to check on the driver. Really, there’s no time for this, but the accident is probably his fault. When he gets close enough, he knows he doesn’t have to bother checking for a pulse. The driver’s neck is snapped at an unnatural angle, her eyes wide and wild and dead. For a moment, Bucky feels horribly guilty. She looks to be a civilian, just out on a drive. A crazy, way-too-fast-for-this-kind-of-road drive, but still not something she deserved to die doing.

The helicopter makes another pass, then the sound fades leaving only the sound of the engine tick away. From heat and it’s gotta be enough between the stiff and the car that he can hide beneath. They’ll probably send someone to check, but if he’s lucky they won’t look underneath the chassis. Really, really lucky. If he had any other options, he would never even try this, but the helicopter is getting closer by the second and what else can he do?

Cursing in every language he knows, and a surprising number he didn’t know he knew, Bucky drops onto his back and pulls himself beneath the car. This idea is as bad as his last and he’s not even sure it’s going to work. All he knows is the car is hot, he’s hot, they’re looking for heat and he’s got to catch a break at some point.

The helicopter’s rotors _whump whump whump_ grows steadily closer. Bucky forces himself not to run, squeezes his eyes closed and prays that this actually works. When the chopper stops, hovering above him and the wreck, he thinks for sure he’s doomed. His heart stops beating for several seconds and then the pilot moves on.

It’s _impossible_ , just like Steve’s stupid stunts, and Bucky laughs a little hysterically.

Once the sound fades into the distance, Bucky crawls back out from beneath the car. Grabbing leaves and dead pine needles, he does his best to remove the evidence of his presence. They didn’t wait, but that doesn’t mean someone else isn’t coming to check on the wreck.

With his presence erased as best it can be, Bucky jogs down the road. As he goes, he considers running until he finds another car. The exhaustion is kicking in again, though, and the note told him to stay put. That last isn’t exactly an option, not with Adaptoid and his goons searching for him, but he does need to rest. Climbing a tree had worked once, there was no reason it shouldn’t work again. Plus, if he hears the helicopter again, he’s close enough to the wreck to make it back there for cover.

Picking a new tree to sleep in proves harder than expected. Some don’t offer enough cover from the ground, others not enough from the sky. Some have both, but aren’t tall enough that Bucky feels safe. As the sun starts to set, he finally finds one suitable and climbs up. Soon he’s settled in, but sleep itself is elusive. The sun sets, an owl hoots in the distance, and all Bucky can do is wonder when the chopper will be back.

The insomnia isn’t really unusual, not since Azzano. Normally, Steve fucks him and he passes out. Without Steve, and in the blackness of the forest, there’s no way to hide from his mind except in the past. He knows if he doesn’t choose the memory, he’ll have another flashback. So he settles on one of his favorites, that day at Ebbets when he watched the Dodgers with Steve for the first time.

When he’s played through that memory four times, Bucky sits up at the sound of a roar he doesn’t recognize. It’s far too loud to be a man or animal and Bucky ends up standing, hoping to see anything in the dark night. To his surprise and terror, he does. Some kind of fighter plane shoots overhead. It’s flying low, but doesn’t stop, so he quickly assumes it wasn’t looking for him. It’s flying too low, though, so it’s up to _something_.

Bucky finds out what that is when the flapping of a parachute echos in the once-again still night. The smart move would be to sit tight, wait until morning and start back down the mountain. Unfortunately, Steve never had the monopoly on stupid, as today has proven. Getting carefully to his feet, Bucky once again takes to climbing from tree to tree using the branches and following the sound of the parachute until it stops. At that point, he thinks he’ll have lost...whoever it is, when he hears voices.

“Barton and I have landed, heading in from the south.”

The voice is female, but speaking in English, so he hopes it’s not an enemy. Then again, the letter said most everyone was these days.

“Think he’s out here?” a male voice asks.

It gives him a bit of a chill the way the woman says, “He better be.”

“Think Cap gets first dibs on kicking his ass if he’s not,” the man teases.

Bucky tenses; Cap is a common enough nickname for military Captains that he’s not sure if these are Steve’s team. The voices start heading away, so he follows to the next tree.

“Cap isn’t in any shape to kick anyone’s ass.”

“Fair enough, but he’s got special line cutting privileges for ass kicking. Bucky _is_ his boyfriend.”

Why does everyone seem to know that? And if they know, why haven’t they just fucking arrested them both?

Blindsided and confused, Bucky places his foot wrong and it slips off the bark. The woman asks, “You hear that?” but before she finishes the sentence, Bucky is falling through the branches and making even _more_ noise. Yeah, everyone fucking heard that.

Terrified, Bucky tries to grab something, _anything_ , and manages to snag one of the lower branches with his metal arm. It jerks him to a stop, painfully, but at least he’s not stopped by the ground. He’s got a bunch of new scrapes and bruises, but he’s _alive_ so that’s a plus.

Looking down, he can’t see either of the people he’s been following, but it’s practically pitch black so he isn’t really surprised. Then the branch he caught breaks and he yelps before finishing the descent to the forest floor. Thankfully, there’s only another ten feet to fall and he lands on his ass.

“Sarge?” the man says at the same time the women says, “James?”

“Ow,” Bucky groans.

Someone walks towards him, and a tiny hand grabs his own and pulls him to his feet. Even for a man, the strength in the woman would be incredible. He makes a mental note not to piss her off, the same as he did with Peggy.

“Are you injured?” she asks.

“Just my pride,” he says, “Is Steve-”

“Fine,” she says quickly. “He’ll be fine, just needs some rest.”

Bucky scowls.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

The man laughs.

“Of course he is.”

“How long have you been following us?” the woman asks.

“Since you landed. Bedded down for the night close enough to hear your chutes.”

“Neat trick,” the man says. “Surprised the trees hold your fat ass.”

“Hey, those trees saved my life at least three times.”

The man says, “Hold still.”

A gloved hand touches his face, making Bucky tense, but then he’s slipping some kind of glasses over Bucky’s eyes. As they settle, the darkness lurches and flashes, turning green all around him. It lets him see clearly for a good thirty feet in any direction and lights up his new companions. The man, he realizes, is holding a bow. He imagines he’s supposed to _know_ that, so he doesn’t comment. If they think he’s not himself, they might not let him help Steve.

“So,” the woman says a little too casually. “What year is it?”

Thank God for his own foresight and that note. He doesn’t know what he’s done to give himself away, but the woman’s on to him.

“2016.”

Bucky sees her frown, but then she touches her ear and says, “Cap, we’ve got him. Safe and sound.”

“He has been the literal worst since we last saw you,” the man says. “Thanks, by the way. Wasn’t sure you’d make it out of that.”

Bucky has no idea what he’s talking about.

“Look, can we not? I just fell out of a fucking tree. Don’t feel like praise is really the order of the day.”

It’s apparently a perfectly normal answer because the guy laughs, claps him on the shoulder, and nods. They start following after the woman.

“I’m going to enjoy telling that story when I get home. Winter Soldier fell out of a tree, landed on his ass. No one will believe me.”

“They’re not alone on that,” Bucky says pointedly.

The guy shrugs.

“You know, Tash. After that Winter Soldier day where you broke Steve’s arm, she gets nervous.”

“I broke Steve’s arm?” Bucky blurts before he can stop himself.

It’s definitely not the thing to say. The guy’s shoulders snap with tension. Tash spins, reaching up to tap the earpiece and he just knows she’s going to report Code Silver.

“Don’t!” he blurts and, to his surprise, she doesn’t. Through the glasses, her eyes are luminous and steady. Bucky licks his lips. “Please. I need to get to Steve.”

“What year was it yesterday?” the man demands.

Bucky sighs, shifts his stance so he can fight if they make him, and says, “1943.”

“It’s not ideal,” the guy says to Tash.

“There is that ass-kicking priority you were just telling me about,” she says.

Bucky feels he can breathe again.

“He did fall out of a tree, though,” the guy says, but Bucky can hear the teasing in his voice now that he’s looking for it. Without waiting for an answer, he turns to Bucky and holds out a hand. “Clint Barton. Yes, I use a bow.”

“Natasha,” ‘Tash’ says and, just like that, they start walking again.

“Guess you should fill me in a little,” Bucky says.

“Oh boy,” Clint says, “Where do I start? Okay, well, Tony Stark-“

“Stark? As in, Howard Stark and Stark Industries?”

“His son,” Clint nods, “He’ll be the one flying around in a red and gold suit.”

“He brought the stealth one,” Natasha interjects.

“Okay,” Clint sounds very put upon, “It’s a _black_ suit, like a robot, only he’s inside it and can shoot missiles.”

Bucky lets out a low whistle, even though something about Tony Stark puts him on edge. It’s pointless to wish he could remember the last seven decades, but he does anyways.

“What’s with the bow?” Bucky asks.

“Weapon of choice,” Clint says, “and yes, I know how stupid you think it is. I actually enjoy arguing about the merits of ‘ancient artifacts’ versus ‘modern weaponry’ with you, but our last talk took over an hour and we have ten minutes, tops, before we have to go dark.”

Bucky’s a little floored by this, so he asks instead, “So, uh, we’re friends, then?”

Clint’s face does something that Bucky doesn’t like.

“The Winter Soldier doesn’t have friends,” Natasha calls from in front of them.

“What?” Bucky says, because… What?

“You don’t like getting close to people,” Clint shrugs as if he didn’t just make that face, “We work well together. Most of the time, I think you like me. You like Natasha more, Steve the most, and sometimes I think you like Sam. Sometimes I think you’re going to murder Sam in his sleep. Can’t figure out if you like Tony, or you’re scared of him. Wanda is scared of _you_ and you’ve got some weird kind of understanding with Thor. Vision, well, you, him and Bruce just never talk to each other. It’s weird.”

“There were about three more names in there than I know,” Bucky says as his stomach swoops. That whole thing in the note about not trusting anyone is making a lot more sense. Yet, he also told himself to trust these people, so why does Clint and Natasha make it sound like the only person he trusts is Steve?

“Right,” Clint says, “Wanda is a psychic, only other woman on the team. Mental powers, pretty bad ass. Sam is a flyboy, former Air Force, has wings, literally flies with them. Through the actual air.”

Bucky remembers that the note said not to be surprised by anything, but this is a lot to take in.

“Thor is a God, as in the Norse god of Thunder. He’s actually an alien from Asgard, but he’s nearly indestructible, can fly and control lightning. Don’t try to pick up the hammer.”

“Uh, okay?” is all Bucky can manage.

“Vision is… Uh, he’s… Look, I don’t really know what he is. He _was_ a robot, but now he’s a person, but he’s not an android. An android is-“

“I know what an android is,” Bucky interrupts.

“Well, Vision isn’t one of those, even if he was a machine once. He’s a genius, can fly, and has a laser beam in his forehead.”

“I think I need to sit down,” Bucky says.

Natasha calls, “No time.”

Clint laughs and pats him on the shoulder.

“Last we’ve got Bruce. He’s got this Other Guy inside him and when he gets angry, he grows about four sizes, turns vivid green, and breaks things. You can’t kill him and he’s stronger than any of us, minus Thor. Don’t get in his way. Questions?”

“Only about a thousand,” Bucky says dazedly. “How do the three of us fit in with these superbeings?

“Well, buddy, you happen to be a super soldier, too.”

“I- What? When does that happen?”

Natasha slows, falls back to walk on his left.

“It’s already happened in your time line,” she says, “Azzano, Zola, those injections.” Bucky flinches and he briefly feels her hand on his arm. “You’ve told me about them.”

“I haven’t told _Steve_ about them,” Bucky says, surprised.

“You still haven’t,” she shrugs. “We talk.”

Bucky wishes it was daylight so he could better see her face.

“I thought I didn’t have any friends?”

“We’re friends,” she says confidently.

A knot in his stomach unwinds and he takes a steadying breath. It’s the opposite of what she just said, but he believes her and not just because he wants to. He wouldn’t talk about the shit with Zola with just anyone. He also has a feeling she said that for Clint’s benefit, not his.

“That why you were gonna kick my ass if I wasn’t all right?” Bucky asks her with his best smile.

All it gets him is a roll of the eyes. Then she says something in Russian and Bucky’s head throbs as he _understands her_. He doesn’t know Russian. When did he learn Russian?

“Your nose is bleeding,” Natasha says, sounding surprised and a little alarmed.

“What?” Clint repeats.

They both stop walking, moving in front of him and stare. Bucky presses the heel of one hand to his temple, the other pinching shut his nose as he tilts his head back.

“Nothing wrong with me,” he says, but it’s in Russian, not English, and what the hell is happening.

“He’s never had access to knowledge outside his time frame before,” Natasha says urgently, but Bucky thinks she’s talking to Clint. “Something’s wrong; I’m calling it in.”

“No!” Bucky says sharply, grabbing her wrist and wincing because he shouted. “Listen, just, you can’t babysit me, right? You brought the whole team because that _thing_ that wants Steve is too powerful. You can’t knock me out if there’s something wrong with my head and you better believe I’m not staying here on my own. Everyone’s better off if you just take me with. I’m fine. It’s just a headache.”

“He’s got a point,” Clint says calmly.

Natasha hesitates, then pulls away from Bucky. Remembering his vow not to piss her off, he makes no effort to hold on.

“Fine,” she says, “but you’re telling Steve this was your idea.”

“It is my idea,” Bucky says, wiping at his nose.

“Exactly.” She turns around. “Now we’re late. Hurry up.”

They do, and though Bucky wants to hear more about Clint and Natasha, he knows they’re running out of time.

“All right, what’s the game plan?”

Clint grins.

“Thought you’d never ask, Sarge.”


	3. Relationships Are Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers defeat the Adaptoid and Bucky finally puts a ring on it.

The plan is good, but they never get to use it. Nearly at the rendezvous site, there’s an explosion in the distance. Natasha and Clint freeze, then start sprinting through the trees, all stealth abandoned. Without a comms unit of his own, Bucky still knows to keep up even without knowing the specifics of what’s going on.

“Adaptoid found Steve,” Natasha tells him before he can ask.

Fear squeezes Bucky’s chest, but he easily keeps up with his two new companions. He’s actually pretty sure he could pull ahead, but he doesn’t know where they’re running to. The distant sound of gunfire and explosions gives him a clue, but he also feels the need to stay with Clint and Natasha. Steve is up there, obviously in danger, but he feels just as strong a need to protect these two even without remembering them. Thinking about it makes his head throb, so he quickly stops thinking about things he doesn’t remember, and stays because they’re better off as a unit. He’s not keen on fighting Adaptoid by himself again.

The gunfire and explosions grow louder until they come upon a clearing half-natural, and half-formed by the massive destruction of part of the forest. Smoldering fire and brilliant flashes make the night vision glasses useless, and they all quickly pull them off. Trees have been uprooted, blasted apart so all that’s left are stumps, even burnt to cinders. Bucky barely notices. In and above the clearing rages a massive battle. 

“Shit,” Clint says.

There’s no better way to put it. All the superhuman Avengers Clint described to him are going toe-to-toe with Adaptoid and they’re losing. No longer in a Captain America look-alike suit, Adaptoid is four times his usual size (Bruce), has a rectangle for eyes now that match the silver and black suits flying around, a strange glowing symbol in his chest that matches the black suit (Stark), is _flying_ (like the gold caped hero), and is throwing lightning (Thor). He also still has Bucky’s arm and Steve’s stripes. Steve’s _shield_ he’s happy to see, is with Captain America himself.

“He’s got to be kidding,” Bucky growls because there’s a bandage around Steve’s stomach that’s spotty with blood.

Natasha nods while giving a single shoulder shrug, “He’s Steve.”

“You weren’t there to stop him,” says Clint.

“Why is that still _my_ job?” Bucky laments to no one in particular.

“Nat, I don’t think we’re cut out for this one,” Clint says even as he nocks an arrow to his bow.

The look Natasha wears says she agrees, but she pulls two guns from behind her back and takes off towards the fight. Bucky is still trying to wrap his head around what he’s seeing and, well, he’s not really a close-up fighter.

“Why are there two flying suits?” he asks as Clint’s arrow flies true and embeds in Adaptoid’s head.

“The silver one’s War Machine,” Clint says, glaring because Adaptoid doesn’t even stop to pull the projectile free.

“And you didn’t mention him, because…?”

“You guys kind of hate each other,” Clint says, lowering the bow. “Come on, let’s get you a weapon.”

Clint takes off towards the plane Bucky saw earlier, skirting the still-intact tree line, and he follows. They’re halfway there when Adaptoid notices them. He’s too far away to catch up, so he grabs Falcon out of the sky and throws him like a projectile.

“Get down!” Clint shouts.

Bucky’s body reacts. Leaping, he plants a foot against the nearest tree, pushes off, and catches a branch ten feet up with his metal arm. Without pausing, he swings himself up and leaps at the man tumbling through the air who he guesses is named Sam. Both arms wrap around the guy’s waist, catching him as he falls to land kneeling in the dirt.

Sam, wearing a red visor over his eyes, looks surprised, then annoyed.

“Thanks, Barnes,” he says as he pulls away before his wings shoot him skyward again.

“No problem,” Bucky mutters, then asks Clint, “H-How did I do that?”

Pain spikes through his skull. If he hadn’t already been kneeling, he would have fallen now as he clutches his head. His ears ring. He smells ozone. Then it just…passes.

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky demands.

“Not a clue,” Clint says amiably, grabbing Bucky by the arm and pulling him to his feet. “Maybe you should try not to think about it.”

That sounds like terrible advice, but Bucky doesn’t really have a better plan. Another glance at the clearing shows the battle has moved closer. Adaptoid is small again, but now he’s shooting golden laser beams from his chest _and_ forehead, but the Avengers are doing a decent job of halting his progress towards Bucky and Clint.

“He really likes you,” Clint comments as they run.

“The feeling is _not_ mutual.”

They run up the plane’s ramp and straight into a red force field. It holds them immobile for a moment, then dissipates to reveal a pretty young woman with long, brown hair and eyes even bigger than Steve’s.

“Clint,” she sounds surprised, but pleased until she looks at him and adds warily, “Sergeant Barnes.”

“Ma’am,” is all Bucky can really think to say because he figures this is Wanda and he doesn’t’ like pretty women being afraid of him. Likes it less when they’re practically kids.

“Why aren’t you out there?” Clint asks her.

“It was deemed too dangerous to chance Adaptoid gaining use of my powers.”

“Oh,” Clint nods, “Smart.”

Turning his back before he sees her flinch, Clint grabs a rifle from a locker and tosses it to Bucky. The weapon feels good in his hands, familiar, and far more advanced than any Bucky has used before. 

“Adaptoid has a target lock on Bucky, so we can’t stay.”

Wanda nods, but she stares at Bucky in a way that makes him really nervous. Clint takes off down the ramp and Bucky goes to follow, when she speaks.

“Sergeant Barnes.”

“Ma’am?” he asks, stopping and looking back at her.

She walks over and stands on her toes, hooking a black device over his ear.

“It will help Steve to hear your voice.”

“I-“ Bucky swallows hard. _“Thank you._ ”

“Go,” she says, about as good with heartfelt thanks as Steve is, “They need you, and Adaptoid cannot come close enough to copy my abilities. I should not have been brought on this mission at all.”

For a moment, she looks so small and frightened. Defeated. It reminds him of Steve every time Bucky had to step in to end a fight he had started.

He’s not sure what compels him to say, “They aren’t afraid of you. They’re afraid of your power being used by someone without your heart.”

Wanda’s mouth opens in surprise and she looks at him with such big eyes. Bucky’s head hurts badly enough he wants to puke. Then Wanda’s hands are pressed to his temples, red flurries of light surround his mind, and the pain is just…gone. Not less; gone.

“I’m sorry!” Wanda says quickly, stepping away like he might punch her, and Bucky’s stomach swoops again. “I wanted to help, truly!”

“Sorry?” Bucky repeats. “Doll, that was brilliant.”

“You do not like me in your head when you are yourself.”

Bucky laughs.

“That sentence shouldn’t make sense. I promise not to be mad when I’m me again.”

Wanda’s answering smile is a beautiful thing. When she steps forward again, Bucky feels like a dirty old man, but all she does is reach up and press on the unit in his ear. There’s a chirp, then a burst of explosions and chatter from the nearly dozen people outside.

“Jesus! Fuck!” Bucky exclaims in surprise.

“Good to hear you again, Barnes,” says a tinny voice he doesn’t recognize.

“Tony,” Wanda clarifies.

“Stop standing around, Sarge,” Clint demands.

“Duty calls,” Bucky says and runs back down the plane’s ramp. 

Skirting the trees to the right, he finds himself a decent spot to lie low, and turns his attention to the battle. Adaptoid is still his normal size, but now there’s a machine gun operating from his right shoulder and more laser beams blasting from his hands. The lighting has apparently been abandoned for now, as has the forehead beam, but he’s sporting a visor similar to the one Sam wore when Bucky caught him. A quick sweep of the team shows a guess as to why. The machine gun has Steve and Natasha pinned down behind his shield. Tony, Sam, and War Machine are swooping around, blasting Adaptoid with everything they’ve got to try and divert his attention as he advances on the pinned-down superheros. On the far, far side of the clearing, the guy he’s guessed is Thor, from the hammer and lightning bolts, leans over another confusingly naked man with curly brown hair. The weird looking guy in the gold cape is no where insight.

“Anyone else notice he keeps shifting powers?” Bucky asks.

“Seems to have something to do with the last few people to attack him,” Steve says and it’s Steve, his Steve. Thank fucking God.

“Except for the arm,” Natasha says. 

“Well, he does have a hard-on for Cap’s boy toy,” Tony says.

“Why does _everyone_ know about that?” Bucky groans.

“Bucky?” Steve sounds worried.

“Uh,” Clint says, “Code Silver?”

“Bucky, get the hell out of here!” Steve yells.

“Soon as we deal with my stalker,” Bucky replies as calmly as he can. Steve gets uppity when he panics.

A voice he vaguely tags as Sam’s says, “He’s getting awfully close to you guys, Cap.”

“Bucky!” Steve yells again.

“He already saved my life, Steve,” Sam comments rationally. Why don’t they get along again?

“He’s fine,” Natasha snaps, “If he couldn’t handle it, we would have left him behind. He remembers through 1943.”

Bucky is grateful neither she, nor Clint mentions the other things he’s remembering. Or accessing. Whatever it is his head is doing.

“It’s not safe,” Steve starts to argue.

“I think I’ve got a plan,” Tony interjects, “If the geriatrics want to stop fighting for a minute and actually win this thing.”

“Make it good, Tony,” Steve growls.

“Your confidence in me is overwhelming,” Howard’s son quips. “It seems to me we’ve gotta get Steve and Nat out of the line of fire. So, what do you say my mentally unstable friend, want to distract our mean green monster?”

“No!” Steve shouts, and when the fuck did he start doubting Bucky so much?

“You’re out-voted,” Bucky snaps in irritation, “What do you need me to do, Stark?”

“So agreeable,” Stark says, “I think I like you better like this, Barnes.”

“Stark,” Bucky growls.

“Right, well, just get his attention.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“When you’re finished getting Ms. Romanov and Captain Rogers to safety, I have uncovered valuable information in the laboratory you will find most interesting, Tony,” says a very posh British voice and who the hell is that?

“Banner is not in danger of dying,” says another accented voice, “but I cannot wake him. I will remain here and ensure Adaptoid does him no further injury.”

“Any time now, Barnes,” Tony says snippily. “Rhodey, on my six.”

“Don’t think about it,” Wanda’s voice encourages, gentle, and Bucky doesn’t think anyone else heard.

After watching the other, much more powerful members of the Avengers attack Adaptoid without any effect, Bucky hadn’t bothered firing his gun, pretty as it is. He’d noticed Clint was of the same mindset as no more arrows were striking the easily identified green target. A violent distraction would therefore be pointless. A vague plan came to mind and Bucky grits his teeth because it’s got Steve’s levels of stupid written all over it..

“This had better work, Stark,” Bucky growls as he climbs back to his feet, swinging the rifle over his shoulder. Placing himself out in the open is terrifying, but he makes sure he’ll be obvious when Adaptoid turns to face him. Then he draws the flare gun, and launches a brilliant red firecracker into the sky. The ground is bathed around him in crimson, the flare lingering in the air, and Adaptoid’s head snaps in his direction.

Heart pounding, Bucky shouts, “Changed my mind about that deal,” and he doesn’t consider why.

The result is immediate. Adaptoid abandons his attack, the machine gun disappearing completely, and he flies straight at Bucky. 

Steve shouts, “Bucky, no!” again, but this time with real fear filling his voice.

“Peace, Captain,” the British voice says soothingly, “Have faith in Sergeant Barnes. He knows what he’s doing.”

Bucky clamps down on a giggle because he does _not_ know what he’s doing. Adaptoid reaches him, grabs him by the front of the jacket, and doesn’t stop. They fly into the trees, Bucky being shaken like a rag doll as Adaptoid avoids branches and trunks. It ends when he’s slammed against a spruce, an alarming sound like something powering up coming from the glowing center of the palm Adaptoid points at his head.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky says quickly, “Look, I know we haven’t gotten off on the right foot, but making me piss myself is not how you go about courting a guy!”

Adaptoid’s head cocks to the side. In his ear, British Voice is saying something about android technology and circuitry storage. Bucky tunes him out.

“You are afraid of me?” Adaptoid questions.

“You do keep trying to hurt me,” Bucky points out reasonably.

The thing in Adaptoid’s hand powers down, but he doesn’t release the hold he’s got on Bucky’s front, pushing him against the tree.

“Because you are refusing to accept the only logical conclusion to our meeting.”

“Which is?” Bucky prompts.

“Keep him busy, lover boy,” Tony says. “We need as much time as you can give us, but we’ve got a plan.”

Adaptoid somehow sounds exasperated when he answers. 

“That I am superior to Captain America and you must chose me over him.”

“Yeah,” Bucky swallows, “That’s what we’re here to talk about, right? You and me.”

“Are we even sure it has feelings like that?” Clint asks.

“It has obsession,” Natasha states. “That’s good enough. James is playing it perfectly.”

“You agree to join me, then?” Adaptoid presses.

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky says, “but I’ve got some conditions.”

“Conditions.”

Bucky swallows, because the way the thing said that was not happy.

“Yeah, first,” Bucky carefully places his flesh hand over the fist holding him against the tree, “You gotta stop man-handling me. People in relationships are equals and you treat me like crap. Steve never does that.”

Adaptoid’s metal arm whirrs in anger.

“I am better than Steve Rogers!”

“So act like it!” Bucky yells back.

“I don’t like this,” Steve says.

“Stop doubting him,” says Wanda, “He needs confidence.”

“You got this, Soldier,” Sam declares.

“Keep it up, we just need to wake Banner,” says the voice Tony referred to as Rhodey. He’s stopped hearing the chatter, so they must be using two comm lines. That’s good; he needs to focus.

“I have been told you were once very charming, Sergeant,” British Voice says. “There is no doubt in my mind you will succeed.”

The outpouring of confidence would be a lot more touching if Bucky remembered any of these people. They’re not wrong, though, because as they’ve been talking, Adaptoid has slowly released him. Bucky isn’t any less terrified, but it’s a start.

“It is not my wish that you fear me, James Barnes,” Adaptoid says carefully. “Name your other conditions.”

Surprised this is actually working, Bucky glances down at the thing’s hand and back up. He swallows and prays he doesn’t have to do this much longer. He’s running out of ideas.

“Once we’re...joined, you can’t hurt Steve.”

Adaptoid’s hand makes a grab for him, but freezes midway as Bucky flinches.

“This request is unacceptable. It is my purpose. Additionally, if you are joined to me, see me rightfully as superior, you shall have no need for a lasting attachment to Captain America.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says carefully, “That’s not how emotions work.”

Bucky thinks Adaptoid would frown if he could.

“It is illogical.”

Spreading his hands, Bucky shrugs.

“Yeah, kind of, but I can’t turn them off like a switch. Just ‘cause I leave him for you doesn’t mean I’ll stop loving him.”

Steve’s voice cracks on his name.

“Bucky-”

A green fist snaps out, rips the comm off his ear, and crushes it.

“Pay attention to _me_.”

“I’m right here, big guy,” Bucky says quickly.

More than anything, he does not, _does not_ want to touch Adaptoid. Yet he reaches out, wraps his hand loosely about the thing’s weirdly cool wrist, and pulls its palm flat against his chest. 

“I’m right here,” he says again.

“Yes,” Adaptoid agrees. “And you will not fight me again?”

Bucky shakes his head. Adaptoid takes this as permission to touch Bucky again. Skin crawling, Bucky makes himself hold still as the copy of his own arm reaches behind his neck and removes the tie holding back his hair. The long strands fall around his ears, into his face. In a strange, twisted gesture of affection, Adaptoid tucks it back behind his ears. Bucky wants to scream.

“I can agree to these conditions. Are there more?” 

Having trouble breathing, let alone thinking, Bucky wracks his brain for something, _anything_ else. Nothing comes to mind.

“N-no,” Bucky swallows. “This joining, thing. Is it going to hurt?”

“Yes,” Adaptoid says, “We are not at the lab. I cannot make it painless.”

Bucky swallows again.

“You are afraid.”

“Kind of not a fan of pain.”

 _Where the hell is everyone?!_ Bucky thinks desperately. 

“Then I am sorry.”

Adaptoid’s fingertips press into his temple, jaw, and cheek. Squeezing his eyes shut, Bucky calls to mind the last time he saw Steve’s face. It was just before they fell asleep, the only light filtering through the tent’s canvas. He was sleeping, so, so beautiful, and somehow his. Somehow, Steve is still his seven decades later. As Adaptoid’s fingers start to burn, he holds onto that. Holds on to it and tries not to scream.

Just like with Zola, he doesn’t succeed.

“We are out of time!” he thinks he hears Steve shout.

_Sergeant Barnes, James B. 32557- How does it go? 3255-_

“Almost there.” 

Wanda’s voice sounds right in his ear, close enough he looks, but she’s not there. She’s not letting that stop her from talking to him. 

“A few more seconds, Bucky.”

The seconds feel like hours. The burning spreads outward while the places Adaptoid touches become almost frigid. He doesn’t remember grabbing Adaptoid’s wrist, but he’s squeezing hard enough the motors in his arm are screaming right along with him. 

The creature is no longer looking at him, it’s looking to the side, and Bucky follows the gaze to find Steve wide-eyed with fear. There’s a woosh and a crash and a huge, green man - with a face, thank God - bursts into view behind him. Wanda is tucked into the crook of his arm, so he’s apparently on their side. That’s good, because he’s as green as Adaptoid, and Bucky has decided he hates that color. 

The monster in question swings his head to the other side and Bucky doesn't choose to look, something _makes him_ , and isn’t that terrifying? Tony and War Machine land with Sam through a break in the trees. Heavy feet land on the ground behind Adaptoid and Bucky’s eyes move to see Vision land, carrying Natasha, and Thor with Clint. 

“Steve,” Bucky whimpers and hates himself for it, but he knows Adaptoid can see what _he_ sees and this is so much worse than Azzano.

“On three,” the black suit with Howard’s son inside says.

“If you attack me,” Adaptoid says, “You will kill him.”

The other’s hesitate, but Steve says firmly, “One.”

_Yes, Steve, good call._

“Two.”

_Please, please let this work._

“Three!”

The world feels like it explodes. Lightning surges from Thor’s hammer, lasers shoot from both flying suits and the forehead of the Vision - who Bucky finally recognizes because _Adaptoid_ knows him - and Clint fires at least four arrows a second at Adaptoid’s back. Red light wraps around them both and hovers between Wanda’s hands, pressing the green monster - and Bucky - into the earth. 

Screaming curses, but not releasing his hold on Bucky, Adaptoid struggles to break past the force holding him down. Then Natasha, Hulk, and Steve are there, kicking, punching, and smashing every part of the thing they can reach. Adaptoid screams again, but not out of rage. Bucky can feel it, feel the fear as heat starts to build somewhere behind Adaptoid’s temples. There’s too much data, too much to absorb. They can’t control it, can’t process fast enough. It’s too much; the circuits are over heating. They have to get away, have to let them cool.

Bucky screams again and punches Adaptoid in the face with the arm that is a weapon.

Betrayal surges through the connection Adaptoid has forged between them just as it snaps closed. Scrambling back and away as fast as his legs will carry him, Bucky collapses when he hits the tree trunk.

“Thirty-two, fifty-five, seventy, thirty-eight,” he gasps.

A hand slides over his neck and Steve's worried face swims into view, hovering over him.

“Bucky?”

“Why,” he licks cracked and swollen lips, “do you always think I'm willing to leave you behind?”

Steve let's out a little sob of relief and it's so alarming that Bucky lets him wrap him in a tight hug and even returns the embrace. 

“You are so goddamn stupid,” Steve says tightly.

“Says the guy fighting with his stomach torn open,” Bucky retorts. 

The black suit leans over them and startles the shit out of Bucky with how similar it looks to Adaptoid. Tony must realize this as he pushes the face plate up, leaving absolutely no doubt that he's Howard’s son. It's pretty weird because he's sure he saw Howard just the day before. And wouldn't the nut be pleased by this?

“We need to get you on the jet and make sure that isn't going to keep spreading.”

Steve scrambles back up, eyeing the places Adaptoid’s fingers were pressed. Bucky rolls his eyes. They don’t hurt any longer, actually feel a bit numb, but Steve’s eyes are trying to pop out of his head.

“Is that possible?” Steve asks, anxious again.

“Nice bedside manner, Stark,” Bucky gripes. 

Red light surrounds him and Wanda carefully lifts him to his feet. It's a nice thought, except for the whole part where Bucky can't really feel his legs. She sets him on his feet and he promptly falls over. Steve grabs at him to hold him upright. 

“Probably residual effect from the lightning and mind control,” Tony tells Steve. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Better,” Bucky mouths and the billionaire - is that even a thing? How does he know that? - winks at him.

“All right, Cap, I'll take it from here,” says War Machine who is also, apparently, Rhodey. “You're in no shape to be carrying this lug around.”

Steve looks like he's about to protest, so Bucky squeezes his arm. 

“I'll see you in just a few minutes,” he promises. “You don't have to do it all yourself.”

“I- Okay, thanks Rhodey.”

“Not a problem, Cap. Come on, Sergeant.”

It's incredibly awkward, but Rhodey picks Bucky up like a dame and flies him back to the quinjet. The others who can fly make it back at the same time while the rest of the team takes their time on foot. Seems pointless, but Bucky doesn't mind because he has a few questions and he doubts Steve is going to be honest.

Rhodey sets him on a futuristic hospital bed. Bucky can see Sam and Tony getting out of their gear and figures he doesn't have a lot of time before someone is prodding him with needles.

“Hey.”

The silver face mask comes up, Rhodey’s expression wary.

“I've been told we hate each other. Why? What'd I do to you?”

“Not to me,” Rhodey says and nods towards Tony. “To him.”

“Okay, what did I-”

“You murdered my parents,” Tony says carelessly as he walks up. Bucky's jaw drops, but Tony gets straight to business. “Sit back and let me take a look at your face.”

Letting himself be pushed back on the bed, he stares at Tony as the guy brings some kind of magnifying glass close to his face. He continues to ignore Bucky, though, so he looks at Rhodey.

“I don't understand. I killed Howard? I like Howard. I mean, he's got an ego the size of Jupiter and he never fucking shuts up, but he's the reason- He saved Steve's life. I wouldn't-” 

He stops as he sees Tony twitch beside him and looks up to see a very familiar clenched jaw. He hates that fucking jaw every time Steve makes it. Did Stark learn it from him? 

“Why?” he demands instead. Tony doesn't answer and neither does Rhodey, so he says louder, “Why did I kill a guy I owe so much to? The guy who saved Steve? Saved _me_? Who kept our secret?”

“I don't think now is the time for this,” Sam says, stepping to Bucky's right.

Tony’s jaw juts out again and Rhodey turns away, so Bucky rounds on Sam because he wants answers.

“No, now is the perfect fucking time when Steve isn't here to baby me. Why the hell am I not in jail if I killed-” he can't even say it again.

“You're not in jail,” Rhodey says, “because Steve took issue with that.”

“No,” Tony says sharply and everyone looks to him in surprise. “Our man with a plan took issue with him being denied a lawyer and a trial and I can't say he was wrong about that.” 

Finally, Tony meets his gaze.

“You killed him because Hydra told you to.” 

Bucky's stomach clenches because no, no, that can't be true. He would never, ever work for Hydra.

“That's not the whole story,” Sam starts, but Tony holds up an imperious hand and he falls silent.

“You obeyed Hydra because they tortured you, took your memories, and your free will. I can forgive you for that. We'll never be friends because you killed my mom, but… It wasn't really you, so.”

“Tony-”

“Don't,” the man interrupts, a dark look in his eyes, “Don't you dare say you're sorry when you don't even remember-”

“No,” Bucky says quickly, “I-I wanted to say that you remind me of your dad. I think he would have been really proud of you.”

Tony stares at him for a long moment, and Bucky thinks everyone else is holding their breath. 

“You're fine, by the way. Cap will be thrilled.” Tony stands and heads for the cockpit. “Personally, I'll be happy when you're back to your usual, stoic self.”

When he's out of sight, Rhodey says quietly, “Good job, Barnes.”

Bucky looks up, expecting sarcasm, but Rhodey nods to him seriously and follows after his friend. Letting out a breath Bucky looks over at Sam.

“Sorry, I just- I needed to know. Steve wouldn't have told me.”

“No,” Sam says carefully, “He wouldn't have. You all right?”

“Be better with some rest,” Bucky answers with a shrug. “Gotta make sure Steve sits the fuck down, first.”

Sam laughs.

“Good luck with that, man.”

Natasha returns first with the curly haired man who Bucky now knows is Bruce. Clint and Steve aren't too far behind, Thor accompanying them. It turns out he doesn't need to force Steve to lie down as he goes straight to the other bed. Bruce and Natasha help him out of the spangled suit, then place a new dressing over Steve’s stomach. The wound looks about as bad as Bucky expected, but that doesn't make it any easier. He tests his legs, finds they'll hold him now, and stands by Steve's feet so he can hold his hand without being in the way.

The contact makes Steve's eyes fly open and he stares in surprise at the intimate touch Bucky would have never allowed even a few hours ago. 

“I did just announce to everyone present and an obsessed, homicidal robot that I love you,” Bucky answers the unspoken question. If they're gonna arrest me, they'll do it with or without this.”

“Arrest you?” Steve repeats. “What about me?”

Bucky snorts. 

“Arrest you? You're Captain America. They can't admit you're queer and they'd have to if they arrested you.”

“No one is getting arrested,” Bruce says. “There's nothing wrong with you being in love with each other.”

“Not what my dad said when he found out,” Bucky protests. 

“Well,” Bruce shakes his head, “while I'm sorry to hear that, I'm not terribly surprised. These days, it's not illegal, however, so you have nothing to fear.”

“Yeah?” Bucky grins slowly. “That's...wow.”

“Even marriage is legal,” Natasha says a bit pointedly. 

“Mmm,” Bucky hums, “So, Steve, since I have you hostage here and this whole thing is legal, why don't you tell me what I did that made you stop trusting me.”

Blue eyes widen to the size of saucers, but Steve decides to play it dumb.

“I don't know what-”

“Cut the shit, Steve,” Bucky says sharply and ignores the eyes that shoot their way. “In the last hour you doubted me more than anyone. So what’d I do? I've gathered that I'm a pretty terrible guy here in the future, what with most of your team either thinking I hate them or being terrified of me, but I thought you, of all people, would be on my side. So what the hell did I do?”

“Buck,” Steve protests. 

“Answer me, Steve.”

When he sees Steve swallow, he knows he's won.

“The mission that started all this; you killed three people, Buck.”

There's a beat of silence where Bucky waits for Steve to say something else. He doesn't. Stomach twisting and knotting, Bucky jerks his hand away as if he's been burned, which he has, just not physically. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he demands. “Three? _Only_ three?” Steve doesn't seem to know what to do with the emphasis Bucky places on that word. “Do you know how many people I killed two days ago? Sorry, that's February 13th, 1943 for those of us without brain damage. So? Do you remember, Steve?”

Swallowing, Steve shakes his head.

“Really? _Seventeen_ , Steve. Two days ago it was seventeen because that's what your plan called for and you trusted me to make those calls. And do you remember why I make those fucking calls?”

Bucky is shouting now and the plane is silent, but he doesn't care. Especially not when Steve shakes his head again.

“I make those calls because you're too fuckin’ busy trying to save everyone you forget about the other lives on the line. _Our guys’_ lives. _Your_ life. Someone has to make that call and it has never, ever been you. Christ, Rogers, if you weren't hurt, I'd punch your lights out right now. Did you even ask me why I made the call?”

“No,” Steve answers, voice small, and Bucky would hate himself if he wasn't so mad.

Throwing up his hands, Bucky starts when Clint says, “Don't know about the third, but the two I saw probably saved Nat’s and your lives, Steve.” He had forgotten they had an audience.

“I would have done the same with the third,” Natasha says quietly. 

Bucky throws his hands back down.

“I rest my goddamn case,” Steve opens his mouth so he adds, “Don't you fucking talk to me right now, Steve Rogers. I'm so angry with you I could spit.”

He turns around, then abruptly turns back and yanks the ring from his pocket. Shoving it into Steve's hand, he snarls, “And take your fucking ring; I don't even know why I have it.” Not waiting for a reaction and ignoring the way Steve’s face goes from upset to confused, Bucky goes as far as he can go from his normally-brilliant commanding officer. It isn’t all that far, considering how packed the jet is with people, but Bucky finds himself an empty corner. Sitting against the wall, he pulls his knees to his chest so no one steps on him. 

From where he sits, he can see Sam at Steve’s side, both staring at the ring and whispering. Before he can wonder what that’s about, his line of sight is cut off buy long, muscular legs clad in black leather. Remembering his vow not to piss off Natasha, he looks firmly away. Wanda drops into the same position he’s in on his right and Natasha squats down on his left. Though he thinks himself enlightened - How many lectures has he heard from Steve about feminism? - he has trouble not feeling intimidated by the two powerful women. 

“It was about damn time you said that to him,” Natasha says amiably.

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. That means today wasn’t the first time Steve doubted him.

“You’re telling me, I’ve been broken so lo-”

“You’re not broken,” Natasha hisses.

Eyes snapping open, Bucky eyes the suddenly pissed-off woman who agreed with him about killing people. Maybe he shouldn’t be emasculated by how intimidating he finds her. She’s really rather scary.

“You were hurt, tortured, maybe damaged, but you came back from that. No, you’re not fixed because shit like that only happens in fairy tales, but you’re getting better. I’d be dead three times in the last few days if it wasn’t for you, so just… Don’t.”

“Steve wants the fairy tale,” Wanda says with a knowing look that’s far too old for her face. “That’s not your fault.”

“I feel like a liability,” Bucky says honestly because he thinks he can trust these women more than even Steve right now.

Natasha holds up three fingers and Bucky has to smile. He can’t remember saving her life once, let alone three times, but that’s not really important. What matters is that it’s not a point he can argue with. 

“We all have demons chasing us, Bucky,” Wanda says. “Your’s just manifest more obviously than most.”

They all do not glance at Bruce.

“Yeah, about that,” Bucky licks his lips, “Why does my brain flip my memories like hot cakes?”

Natasha shrugs. “We don’t know. The doctors can’t figure it out.” 

“Go on, doll,” Bucky says gently, looking at Wanda because she had looked down and away guiltily. “You’ve managed to call me Bucky, you can trust me a little longer not to freak out on you.”

Wanda glances at Natasha who offers an encouraging nod.

“You do not trust yourself any more,” she explains quietly, “This Bucky had Steve’s trust implicitly, he had the trust of the Howling Commandos. _You_ trust this Bucky, so when your mind strains with guilt or fear, you sometimes become him. When you are you, you do not believe you deserve the trust he’d earned.”

“‘’Splains a lot,” Bucky says roughly.

“I’m sorry,” Wanda says quickly, “I saw it in your head before, though I know you don’t-”

“-like you in my head when I’m me, I remember,” Bucky smiles despite the exhaustion settling over him like a blanket. “I get the feeling regular me has just had a lot of people poking around in his head and he’s tired of it. Nothing personal, doll, so don’t be upset.”

“I had not thought of that,” Wanda says sheepishly. “A lot of people are afraid of me.”

“Seems to be a thing with us Avengers,” Bucky replies.

Movement catches the corner of his eye and Bucky looks before closing his eyes and lightly tapping his head against the wall. He’s going to have to make Steve sit down after all.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” he shouts and the jet falls silent, “Get back in that bed or so help me God.”

“Bucky-”

“That’s an order, Captain,” Bucky snaps.

“You can’t give a commanding officer an order,” Steve protests.

They’ve had this argument. They had this argument two days ago, after taking down the Hydra base, and Steve’s apparently forgotten that, too. Bucky does what he did then, hopping to his feet, striding to where Steve is half standing, grabs the punk by the ear and twists hard enough to make Sarah Rogers proud. Yelping, Steve grabs Bucky’s wrist, but doesn’t immediately do as he was told.

“You will stay put and stop acting like you’re unbreakable,” Bucky snarls, “because you are and no one here can afford to watch you break.”

Like he knew it would, mentioning the team gets Steve to behave, and he climbs back onto the bed. He doesn’t, however, let go of Bucky’s wrist even after he releases Steve’s ear. 

“You know,” Sam says, “I thought you were bossy, but seeing you like this, _damn_.”

Bucky doesn’t think that should make sense to him, but it does. At least, thanks to Wanda, that knowledge isn’t causing him pain.

“Didn’t you ever wonder how a Sergeant was XO to a Major?” Steve chuckles.

“Is sergeant a lower rank than major in your armed forces?” Thor asks curiously.

“Yeah,” Sam answers.

“And Captain is obviously higher than both,” Thor surmises. “That level of insubordination is not tolerated on Asgard.”

“Yeah, well, someone has to keep this punk in line,” Bucky replies, “No one else ever wants the job, so…”

“I have authority issues,” Steve says to Sam.

Sam’s expression is blank as he says, “You don’t say?”

“But you twist his ear,” Bucky’s hand darts at the appendage in question and Steve flinches, “and he’ll actually listen to reason.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Sam laughs.

“Bucky, my one weakness,” Steve whines, making several people laugh.

“Bucky _is_ your weakness,” Clint says.

Looking up in confusion, Bucky does a double-take when he finds Clint lying across the top of a bank of lockers, and how did he even get up there?

“Kind of,” Steve murmurs, his hand sliding down Bucky’s wrist to link their fingers together. It’s nice to see he has no issues with Bucky’s metal arm. It’s even nicer to see Steve’s put the ring back on, but Bucky is supposed to be pissed off so he tries to shake him free. Steve, being Steve, holds on tighter.

“Buck, I’m so sorry,” he says with sickening sincerity, “You’re right, I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

With a sigh, Bucky stops resisting and squeezes Steve’s hand. Idly, he toys with the gold band that means so many different things, even when he can’t remember so much of their life together.

“I know you are, Stevie,” Bucky says gently, “but I’m told you have good reason not to trust me. At least...don’t assume I’ve got no reason to do the things I do. Not that I can explain myself at the moment, but when I can, ask.”

“I will, I swear,” Steve says quickly. 

Bucky can’t stop staring at the ring on Steve’s finger, or smiling like a dope, but he can feel Steve’s hesitation like a physical thing between them.

“Spit it out, before you choke on it.”

“Are you sure this is my ring?” Steve asks in a rush. 

Furrowing his brow, Bucky frowns and turns Steve’s hand to get a better look at the jewelry in question. 

“Course I am,” he says confidently, “Took me a week to come up with that inscription and I’ve been saving up for it for three months. I mean, I was, be- You know what I mean. So, yeah, of course it’s yours. Whose else would it be?”

There’s no answer, so Bucky tears his gaze away to find Steve looking at him with shining eyes and an adoring expression. 

“Kinda wish I could remember giving it to you, though,” he murmurs.

For some reason, that makes Steve blush.

“Bucky, you,” he clears his throat, “You just did.”

That’s malarkey if he’s ever heard it, so Bucky demands, “Whaddya mean I just did?”

“I mean,” Steve shrugs helplessly, “I’ve never seen this ring before, Buck.”

Bucky narrows his eyes.

“You’d better not be putting me on, Steve,” he says, but already knows Steve’s not. Those eyes always tell him the truth. “No, uh uh. There is no way- I did not just screw up my own proposal because what kind of mook waits eighty years to ask his best guy to marry him, huh?”

“In your own defense,” Tony calls from the pilot’s seat, “You couldn’t remember your own name most of that time.”

“That is… That’s not an excuse,” Bucky says, feeling panicked now. “Steve, please, sweetheart, tell me I did not just fuck this up.”

“No, no,” Steve says quickly, squeezing Bucky’s hand hard enough to hurt, “You didn’t. It was- It was very us.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Bucky grumbles, though his heart rate slows down. 

Smiling that same soft smile, Steve tugs at his hand.

“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs.

“Right now?” Bucky asks, blushing, because Steve can’t be asking to kiss him right now in front of the whole team.

Steve huffs a little laugh.

“Yeah, right now. You did just ask me to marry you and I did say yes, so you had better kiss me.”

Unable to deny Steve anything, especially _now_ , Bucky leans carefully over his injured fiance - _finally_ \- and presses his lips to Steve’s in a chaste kiss. A chorus of aww’s make Bucky blush harder, but when Steve tangles his right hand in Bucky’s hair and pulls them closer, he doesn’t care. This is obviously why he keeps his hair long. Tingles spread out from his scalp, down his spine, and he really should have grown his hair out sooner.

They kiss until someone, Clint, yells, “Get a room!” and everyone laughs. Even Steve chuckles, though Bucky just grins and presses their foreheads together. It’s a little nerve wracking, being so open about their affection, but he thinks he could get used to it. 

“I love you,” Bucky murmurs.

“Okay, seriously? None of that,” Tony calls to another round of laughter. “You’re going to make my teeth rot, or give us all diabetes.”

Clearing his throat, Bucky straightens up and glances from Steve long enough to realize just how _happy_ everyone else looks. For them, he realizes. Sucking in a breath, he remembers the past seventy years from one heartbeat to the next, and still can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. He thought someone, Sam maybe, would think it a horrible idea for Captain America to marry an assassin. However, Sam’s eyes look conspicuously wet, and no one else looks less than pleased. Thor even looks like he wants to hug him, but they have that agreement so he doesn’t. It’s almost disappointing.

Of course, Natasha and Steve notice the flip first.

“Welcome back, James,” Natasha says just before Steve yanks hard on his arm.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” Steve says quickly, literally pulling him down and into his arms.

Chuckling, Bucky nudges Steve to move over and crawls onto the bed with him. 

“You always act like I’ve been gone or something,” he murmurs. “I was just here.”

Steve snorts, somehow making himself small enough that he fits in Bucky’s arms. The others turn away, offering them some semblance of privacy at last. He gets the weird feeling it’s because he’s himself now.

“That statement is so completely idiotic, I’m not even going to reply.”

“Wish you would,” Bucky mutters, finding Steve’s left hand so he can be sure that he said _yes_ and Bucky didn’t just imagine that part.

With his head on Bucky’s shoulder, it’s easy for Steve to tilt his head back and brush his nose against Bucky’s jaw.

“You’re just gonna call me a sap,” Steve protests half-heartedly.

“Maybe I like it when you’re a sap.”

Steve huffs, but gives in. 

“You’re the one I’m in love with, Buck,” he murmurs because this is just for Bucky. “Don’t get me wrong, I love any version of you that you’ll throw at me, but _you’re_ it. You’re the one that fits perfect.”

Bucky can’t stop himself from saying, “I got a lot a lot of sharp edges, Steve.”

“I know how to hold on without cutting myself,” Steve replies without hesitation because he really is a sap.

Ears turning red, Bucky grumbles as he’s expected to.

“Sap.”

“Your sap, though,” and Steve is grinning as bright as the sun, “You put a ring on it, you’re officially stuck with me.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, but the effect is lost with how hard he’s smiling back.

“Where’d you learn about Beyonce?”

“I know Google,” Steve says loftily, but sobers quickly. “Hey, those three AIM guards-”

“Don’t,” Bucky says. It’s meaner than he meant, but now those green eyes are floating in his mind. “We just went over this and I can’t,” his voice cracks, so he waits a beat before starting over. “You were in danger. I had to.”

“I know, Bucky, I know you did, Steve grabs the back of his neck and pulls their faces close. “What I was going to say, is if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“Maybe,” Bucky takes a breath, “Think we’re past time talking about some other things first. Azzano, mostly.”

“Only if you want,” Steve says quickly.

Bucky smiles fondly at the idiot.

“We also got a wedding to plan.”

That shiny, adoring look returns to Steve’s face.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “We do. So, whose name we gonna pick?”

Twisting the little band about Steve’s finger, Bucky knows he expects Bucky to pick his own. When he was young and stupid and thought Steve Rogers would never want him, he’d talked a lot of shit about getting a girl to take his last name.

“Been thinking James Rogers would be a perfect name since we were seventeen.”

“Bucky-”

Steve’s voice cracks again and he kisses Bucky hard because he’s not the only sap in the relationship. Then, because it’s a beautiful moment, a nerf dart strikes Bucky square in the temple. 

Though he doesn’t look away from Steve for a second, Bucky calls, “Hey Clint?”

“That was a foam dart, Sarge. No throwing anything sharp back.”

“We’re friends, Clint.”

Bucky thinks there’s an inordinate amount of happiness in Clint’s voice when he says, “We are?” 

“Yeah. Now fuck off, or you’re not invited to the wedding.”

There’s a _thock_ , Natasha yells, “Hey!” and Bucky knows that’s the last nerf dart that’ll be thrown on this trip.

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on Tumblr ](http://cleo4u.tumblr.com/)


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